I woke up again only a few hours later, covered in a layer of sweat and my breathing slightly harsher. Another nightmare. I'd been having enough trouble sleeping lately that I thankfully didn't have to deal with them and the other night was the first good night of sleep I'd gotten probably since Jill tackled Wesker out of that window all those months ago. But of course, just like everything else good in my life, it couldn't last. It was my own fault for jinxing it, feeling like things would actually get better, if that was the case then this was an omen of how my nights would go from now onward. Things never got better- there were always more awful things being spat at me even from my own god damn mind! I couldn't ever get away from it all. I just wanted to rest. No more violence, no more enemies to be wary of, no more corrupt corporations looking in all the wrong places for greedy desires, and definitely no more BOWs of any kind.

I skipped my workout and went straight for a cold shower. Anger and sadness still brewed under my skin but I felt oddly numb to it today. I guess that was a good thing about crying it all out to someone else like I did, there was nothing left to feel or do about it. It just was. I stayed in the shower longer than I normally did, until the cold spray paled my skin and I felt numb on the outside too. I didn't want to do anything today. I just wanted to fade away into nothing like I didn't exist. After all the gore, death, raw carnage, immoral experimentation, betrayal, and personal loss I had faced… I was so tired of it all, was it wrong to want to stop fighting?

I finally shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, staring at myself in the mirror for a long moment. My skin was a bit lighter than usual but that was only because the color drained from me due to the long exposure to the freezing water. I focused on my eyes, usually alive and determined now dull and soulless. Though I was long since used to the weight of my own body, I felt so heavy like every movement took more effort than it should. On a subconscious level I knew what I was experiencing was a deep level of depression and I should seek help rather than suffer alone which would just make it worse… but I didn't want to talk to anyone.

I dried myself off and threw on some clean clothes before walking back into my bedroom. Habit told me to go get some coffee like it would make me feel any better but I knew it wouldn't so I didn't bother. I didn't want to lay around in bed anymore so I sat on the armchair in front of my tv and just stared at the black screen, my eyes following the line of my silhouette in the dim reflection.

Through the numbness I felt an ache for my old captain, the man who found me sulking at my desk after hours over some stupid mistake I made and processed to taunt me with that emotionless expression. I was so angry at him I asked why he didn't just fire me already if I was just a failure because, oh yeah, I was the best marksman he'd ever get. I knew it was wrong to lash out at him but I was already doubting myself, I couldn't have him doubting me too. He told me I was good but not irreplaceable so I challenged him to a shoot off which he accepted. He took me to the shooting range and we took turns giving each other target points. It felt good to let off a few rounds and winning was a bonus. I was triumphant and my self confidence returned with the proof that I wasn't worthless. I turned to gloat but hesitated at the tender smile Wesker wore. He brought one of my targets between us and with purpose he stuck his finger through the hole created from several bullets finding the same spot on the red circle as if to emphasize how remarkable it was. He reassured me he wouldn't fire me over a simple mistake, that I should stop beating myself up over it and work to make sure it didn't happen again. He placed the target back down and walked past me, clapping me on the shoulder once as he did. He told me he was glad I was acting like myself again and congratulated me on my win. Then he was gone.

He pushed me out of my self doubt with his challenges to my character because he knew I would defend myself… he knew what I was worth and knew I did too, he just needed to remind me. The challenge had been fun and I had found myself smiling and sure of myself again all because he knew how to push me to remember myself rather than try with pretty words of comfort like Jill had. It was nice reassurance but Wesker's show had been far better than Jill's tell. And the smile he gifted me with had stirred inside me for a long while, it stayed with me to this day.

Maybe that's what I needed now. Before I could stop myself, my safe was already open and my gun was in hand as I unlocked my door to leave it. Wesker wasn't in the common areas which meant he was in his cell. His door was open though I couldn't see him in the bathroom or on his bed which only left his desk. I walked the short distance to his cell, flicking off my gun's safety as I lifted my arms and pivoted in his doorway to aim right at his head. I fired without hesitation but his blurry motion registered a moment later and I saw that he had moved his head to the side just in time for the bullet to sail right past him and bury into the wall in front of him. He was now turned in his seat to glare at me with a studious gaze, trying to figure out what I was doing. Finally remembering that we were under constant surveillance, I raised my left hand to signal to a camera to stand down. I could only hope someone was still watching rather than rushing to prepare the team to storm in here. My hand returned to its spot under my gun hand to steady my aim. My gaze was hard as it was returned to Wesker and he smirked as he stood up. Something about the way he looked at me sparked a feeling inside of me, I wasn't sure yet what it was but it was feeling.

"Am I allowed to retaliate or do you wish to take your frustrations out on a still target?" he asked as soon as he realized what this was.

"Thought you said you wouldn't hurt me?" I spat at him, unaware I had even wanted to say that- or anything at all. He only said that as a peace agreement during this shared captivity but somehow, without knowing it, it meant something more to me. How could I ever expect him to mean that- hurting me was all he knew how to do! More feeling returned to my core in small tides of heat.

"Based on your recent behavior, I'd say I already have." he shot back without missing a beat, wearing a challenging smirk. I squeezed the trigger again and again and again, my aim chasing him around the room though careful not to put a bullet into anything but the walls. The tides of heat became waves and I yelled as my shots just barely missed Wesker's quick form. Suddenly he was standing directly in front of me though not as close as I knew he would have been if I hadn't lashed out at him yesterday but still close enough to be invading my personal space. He was still smirking and didn't seem at all concerned with the barrel of my handgun pressed under his chin. I hadn't intended to but out of habit I had been counting my shots and I had one more in the chamber. If I knew that, so did he. "Do it if it will make you feel better." he told me with a serious look in his red-orange eyes. Feel better? Did he really think this would all be better if I just shot him in the head? I hesitated but he didn't waver in his decision, his eyes told me to do it with something bordering on guilt but that had to just be wishful thinking. I wanted him to feel bad about what he did to me but odds were he didn't even know what he did, just that it pissed me off and he was only doing this to try to bring back the peace that had settled between us until yesterday. Still… he would let me shoot him in the head just to make me feel better about something he did wrong? More feeling and I registered the receding emotions as anger and pain, and I felt it being replaced with relief and gratitude.

I pulled back to punch him and redirected my weapon before firing, my last bullet ripping clean through the blond man's shoulder. He flinched very slightly before standing straight and taking a steady breath. I watched in awe as the wound quickly worked to seal itself closed again. It didn't get a chance to bleed much but some of the crimson liquid stained the fabric of his shirt, I was sure there was some on his back and on the floor behind him, and a little had come forward to dot my hands. I did feel better. Not because I shot him but because he was willing to go through the inconvenience to himself solely for my benefit. It made me feel like he cared and even if he didn't, I still chose to believe he at least cared enough about the comfort between us to go to these lengths to save it.

"Are we even now?" he asked with a tight expression. I was sure he didn't mean to look at me with any hatred since he invited me to do it but I mean I just shot him, he was probably holding back a much harsher reaction. I couldn't shoot him in the head, I thought too much about him losing some piece of himself so I just couldn't do it. But I did want to shoot him and it's not like it would take weeks to heal so as long as it was something he would feel pain from, it was good enough for me. So yeah, we were even, at least as far as yesterday goes. Everything else he's done is too big for me alone to forgive… not that I was on my way to forgiving anything.

I nodded and wordlessly left his room- his cell to go back to my own bedroom. I left my door open and my gun on my desk so I could go wash my hands in the sink in my bathroom. I watched the small red spots on my fingers wash away and wondered what his blood could do to a normal person if ingested in some way. He had a virus in his blood so was it right to assume that it would work similarly to being infected? Nothing was known about the prototype virus he was given to inject himself with other than it was given to all the Wesker children and it grotesquely killed all but one of them. So aside from Wesker, no one- not even himself was sure of what it was exactly since all the records on Project W were lost in Racoon City. I was sure he had to have done plenty of experimenting on his own blood to figure it out so maybe he did know what it was after all. Speaking of records, I still wondered what methods Umbrella used to acquire him, what his real name was, and if he had any family.

I was pulled from my thoughts by my phone buzzing insistently from my bed. I sighed and dried my hands before going to answer it. It was the man monitoring the cameras, wondering what that was all about and if I was okay, in that order. He sounded upset and I didn't blame him, he was probably told this would be an easy job for him, that all he had to do was watch and alert everyone to any concerning activity. Then I threw a wrench into that by causing a concerning situation but told him to stand down so he was probably panicking over whether he should call in the team or not. I was glad he didn't. I let him know everything was fine, told him I was mad at Wesker so I took a few shots at him like it was no big deal. He stumbled over his words for a moment, making it obvious he was either new here or only had a desk job that didn't involve dealing with any enemies. To anyone else in the BSAA, it would make perfect sense for someone- especially me to want to hurt Wesker. He probably understood that on paper but without any experience, he couldn't understand casually shooting at someone he probably saw as human. I reassured everything was fine now and ended the call.

I was about to toss my phone back onto my bed but decided to slip it into my pocket instead, in case anyone else wanted to call to lecture me about what I did. I'm sure Jill would want to talk after she caught wind of this. I went about busying myself with cleaning and reloading my handgun when Wesker walked up to my open door, stopping to lean against the doorframe rather than enter which he knew was against the rules.

"Are you in trouble?" he asked casually. I looked him over once, seeing he had cleaned himself up and changed his shirt. The inhuman man wasn't looking at me in anger anymore either so I assumed he had time to remind himself that he told me to shoot him and to push aside the hatred he still held for me. I could see him leaving the blood stained shirt on and even coming over with a bloodied rag that he used to clean himself with just to stir up either guilt or anger in me. So I'm glad he didn't do that, it showed me he wasn't trying to start anything and had put it behind him so I would do that same thing. Still… holding a gun with him standing in my vicinity had me itching to shoot him. Old habits die hard I guess.

"No, they were just checking on me." I told him as I clicked the full clip back into my gun and cocked it so a bullet was in the chamber, ready to fire as soon as I had need for it. The blond nodded slightly like that was good news and I agreed. I don't think either of us would like a team storming this temporary home of ours. It would just cause unnecessary issues and throw off the atmosphere of the place.

"Are you going to attempt shooting me again?" Wesker asked sternly and I turned to him sharply in accusation. I hadn't realized I'd been staring at my gun intently but he did. I sighed and tucked it away in the safe along with the ammo box and closed it. I shot him an annoyed look that asked if he was happy now. He simply walked away back to his cell, probably to return to whatever he was doing before I interrupted him with my gun. I sighed again and rubbed my hands down my face. Maybe I spoke too soon and we both needed a few more minutes.

I lounged around my room for about another hour until I was sure all the irritation had ebbed out of me. Then I went to get some coffee, bringing an extra cup with me as I walked to Wesker's room, tapping on the open door with my foot before sticking my head in to peer at him sitting at his desk.

"Come in Chris." he called to me without turning so I stepped in, walking over to place the coffee I made for him on his left side where I knew he usually kept his drinks while he was working. He was writing but it was in a new notebook. Had he already gone through the first one? "Thank you." he said calmly and I nodded to him as I stood straight. I looked around the room a bit awkwardly, not knowing what to do now since conversation didn't seem very likely with him being busy. But I didn't want to just leave so I sat on his bed, placing my mug on his dresser after taking a sip from it. I busied myself on my phone, actually bothering to go through the list my friends and colleagues sent me of shows they thought I would like and recommended me to watch. The boredom had grown so great I was willing to laze around and watch tv all day just for something to do at this point.

It took me longer to feel the monstrous eyes on me than I would like to admit but when I looked over to Wesker, sure enough he was staring at me. He was leaning back in his chair, seeming to be done with his writing. I had laid down on his bed at some point and still held my phone above my face. In the midst of our locked gazes, I stopped paying attention to it and my fingers slipped so my phone hurtled down to smack me in the face. Wesker laughed without malice and I joined in, sitting up as I rubbed my nose. I pocketed my phone as he returned to staring at me, something unreadable in his expression but it felt soft.

"Would you like me to read aloud to you again?" he asked, his eyes never leaving mine even as I felt a soft blush creep onto my cheeks. I just nodded so he motioned to the books on his dresser for me to pick one. I finally broke our eye contact to lean over so I could see the book titles without having to get up. I selected a crime mystery novel that I knew he hadn't touched, picking it up and offering it to him. He got up and stepped over to me, taking it to see what it was. His nose crinkled a little in disgust and he raised an unbelieving brow at me but said nothing. I laid back down and he sat at my feet before opening to the first page and began to read. I smiled to myself and listened to the story as told by his smooth voice.

… … …

As I turned the page I stole a quick glance at Wesker's back as he cooked. I was going to cook for us tonight but he insisted on it, playfully claiming that I would burn it. So instead I sat on the countertop where he wasn't using it and took over reading the novel he started about an hour or two ago. We were a few chapters in and it was actually quite good though we both took jabs at it where it faltered or strayed from correct law enforcement protocols. We had gotten lost in corrections over it a few times already and I felt another coming on as the detective was complaining about paperwork. The author had no idea. The paperwork really was the worst part of the job so of course they glossed over it to focus more on the mystery or action. I think the media these days over glorified police work and it gave new recruits false expectations. I only worked on the police force for two years and even then we were more of a military unit than regular police and the military is where I spent my life. Even now the BSAA was growing to be more and more of a military organization which was fantastic, it gave us more authority and power to do what needed to be done to protect the world. But we faced that same problem, newbies came in expecting it to be all action packed battle and glory but it wasn't. It was tough work on the mind as much as it was on the body and loaded with trauma.

"I could swear I've heard those words before." Wesker mused with a sly grin aimed at me. I snorted and rolled my eyes at his teasing.

"Still hate all the paperwork but I've grown to appreciate the necessity of it." I told him, lowering the book since I knew we were going to be taking a short break from reading to talk more. "On both sides of my job actually." I continued, leaning back a little so the back of my head rested against the wall. The blond hummed in acknowledgment and I knew it was a sign to go on so I did. "It's the best way to get information around a large organization instead of relaying it to everyone who needs it and the files can always be accessed later." I sighed, thinking back on the long nights I used to spend in the archives going over everything we had found on Wesker so I could try to track him. "And if it wasn't for all the records kept by the bad guys, we probably wouldn't know as much about what they were doing so we could stop them." Wesker didn't respond to that like I thought he would, I figured he would make a snide comment about me learning or growing up or something but he was silent and had stilled in a worrisome way. "Wesker?" I questioned cautiously, my head lifting from its relaxed position.

"It's not of your concern." he said though it wasn't harsh like he didn't mean it. Should I press it or leave him be? He went back to stirring something that didn't need his attention. He was reaching for a distraction which was unlike him so I reached for him, leaning forward far enough to touch his shoulder that it would've been easier to get up but I didn't want to do that. His red-orange eyes turned to me, only holding a fraction of the annoyance I was expecting to see.

"Do it later, I'm enjoying our conversation." I found myself saying the words he had once said to me though I wasn't really sure what they meant in this context but he seemed to understand it. His eyes softened as they drifted from mine and he exhaled heavily.

"I suppose it would do no harm to talk about it." he stated before he turned around fully to face me, leaning back against the counter behind him with his arms folded. I smiled and slipped the folded piece of paper we'd been using as a bookmark into its place so I could set the book down without losing our spot. I waited for him to tell me what was on his mind, feeling as though this was a big accomplishment and maybe a good step in our relationship. I had opened up to him about wanting to retire and now he was going to open up to me about something. To a normal person that might seem like a normal development but to us, it was huge progress. "I don't know nearly enough about Project W as I would like due to the records being destroyed in Racoon City. There wasn't much in the mansion about it so most of what I know is straight from Spencer and-" he cut himself off and seemed surprised that he had almost spoken of something he hadn't intended to. I was surprised too, it wasn't like Wesker to slip up with anything but it made me happy because it was another sign that he was getting more comfortable with me. More progress. Of course I wanted to press for the answer of who else could have told him about the lost project and I was also curious to know more but it was obvious he wasn't ready to tell me. He glared at the ground, probably thinking of ways he could get around my questions but I wouldn't question it, not now at least. There was no way I was ruining all this progress because I knew it would take forever to get back.

"We didn't find much either." I told him with a light shrug as if he hadn't misspoken. "Just the basics of what the project was." he studied me for a moment, trying to determine what I was up to by ignoring his falter. "So what brought Project W to mind?" I continued on to show him I wasn't going to press him for an answer if he didn't want to talk about it.

"The letter you will receive tonight is about my childhood which I have only recently completed so with the mention of records, it came to mind." he explained and I nodded, trying to read his expression but there wasn't much to find. He was still looking at me but it wasn't a look of gratitude for not making a fuss over his slip up nor was it of frustration for having done it at all. It was just dropped completely and we were back to normal like it never happened and I was okay with that. He would get around to telling me eventually. "Important records can be destroyed so easily."

"Well it's harder now with new technology." I corrected him and he scoffed at me though it wasn't unkind.

"You must forget I'm good with computers."

"So am I." I countered his smirk but it didn't go away.

"Perhaps but I wouldn't place you in the tech department anytime soon." he told me with a snide sideways glance and I laughed.

"I wouldn't want it to take a position there anyway." I pretended to shiver. "Being chained to a desk all day sounds terrible."

"Yes," he hummed as he turned back around to resume cooking. "you are a man of action so the more idle and mundane areas of our work never did suit you." I smiled more confidently at his words since he said them as praise.

"Are you sure it's all gone?" I asked softly and he sighed.

"Yes. While Jill was in recovery, I spent all my time searching for anything remaining but there was nothing." I nodded more to myself as I thought about why he could be so eager for the records on Project W. He already knew all he should need to about it, the main heads of who was behind it and how it led him to where and who he is now. So what was missing? Information on the other Wesker children, the lesser involved people he may still want dead, and everything about his personal life before Umbrella. That seemed the most likely reason.

"Do you ever miss your parents?" it slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. I didn't mean to, I really didn't because I knew it was a stupid thing to ask but I couldn't help it. He didn't know them and he was cold enough not to care especially after all this time… but I was projecting a little. I was thinking of my own parents and how I wished I knew them more… how I missed them. Wesker shot me a look and laughed.

"No. I don't spare them any thought nor do I care to know who they were." he spoke as if they were already dead and I guessed to him they might as well be, chances were he was right. "I simply want to know because I'm not content not knowing about my own life." that made sense, being the control freak he was, it must drive him crazy that there's stuff about even himself that he doesn't know. "I also wanted to track down all the remaining subjects in the project." he hesitated to continue but the conflicted air around him was tense and it was something I decided I couldn't let go of. I needed to know his intentions.

"What would you do to them?" my words were cautious but he didn't react negatively to them.

"I don't know." he admitted readily which took me by surprise. Usually any sort of admittance like that was considered weakness to him and would be hard to get from him. Yet he seemed okay with sharing it though his movements had slowed in thought. Did he want to kill them or did he want to save them? If you asked me that before this all started, I would tell you he would undoubtedly slaughter them all and there was no other option. But that was before I found out he carried my best friend's broken body back to one of his bases, spent substantial time and effort saving her life, and brought her back to me for no other reason than he didn't think she should be dead- or so he claimed… but it was getting harder not to believe him. "It's pointless to speculate anyhow." Wesker stated, coming out of his thoughts and finishing the side he had been working on only to move on to the next thing that needed his attention. "I've been assured that it's been done already and none remain." somehow that made me sad. I don't know what happened to them but I'm sure they didn't deserve it though if any of them were like Wesker used to be- is- like Wesker is… then maybe it was for the best.

I opened my mouth to say something but found I didn't have anything to say to that. I knew whoever must have told him that was the same person Wesker had slipped up and nearly mentioned. It was nice to know that he felt safe enough to at least bring them up now that he knew I wasn't going to try forcing him to answer who it was. I knew he would tell me when he thought it was the right time for it because he seemed to want to tell me things. Otherwise we wouldn't have had the conversations we already have and he definitely wouldn't be writing me such revealing letters that he felt the need to destroy after I read them. This inner look he was giving to me was nearing on intimate… and I admit that I've been purposefully vague when asked about what's in them as if they're not important to anyone but us. Which was mostly true, the BSAA didn't care about the personal events that took place in Wesker's past like being strong armed into Jill's party or attending a police officer's funeral. I did tell them the relevant information but so far that really only included the first letter he gave me about Project W and I only mentioned the small bits of new information about it. I was content to keep the rest to myself and I'm sure Wesker was aware of that otherwise I'm not sure he would trust me with such personal information.

I stumbled over my own thoughts. Trust. Wesker was trusting me not to share the personal details of what the letters contained- he hadn't even asked if I was, he was just trusting that I wasn't. I felt a familiar warmth spread through my chest and I couldn't even try to fight it off because what else was I supposed to feel other than joy at this revelation? I knew from the beginning that this was a big deal but now it seemed astronomical. Wesker wasn't just giving me secrets of his life, he was entrusting them to me alone. He's been opening up to me since day one and I mistook it for… what? A ploy of some sort to misguide me? I almost felt stupid for doubting the integrity of his letters now when I thought back to the expression he wore when handing me the first one. Wesker was trusting me. I kind of wanted to pay it back somehow… I wanted to allow a kiss of gratitude since that's what he wanted from me… and I wanted it too- but I reminded myself very sternly why I couldn't do that. I would just have to figure out another way to tell him that I understood, that I was grateful, and that I would try harder at trusting him too but in all honesty… I think I already was.

With nothing left to say, I started reading again until it was time to eat. Hopefully we would fall into some idle conversation, read a little more, maybe find something else to do, and burn last night's letter together, before parting ways for bed. I would read 'Childhood' and hopefully get my second good night of rest here rather than have another nightmare.

~...~...~...~

For as long as I could remember, Umbrella had been a part of my life in some way or another. As a child I was raised in a home funded by Umbrella and given the best education money could buy. I never knew my real parents though I had been told I inherited superior genetics from them especially where it concerned intelligence. I never learned what became of them and I can't say I ever put much effort into finding out. Any information there would have been on who I really was before being assigned the name 'Wesker' or who my family could have been was lost in Racoon City, or so claimed by Spencer. I still don't much care to know. Whoever they were, they're most certainly dead by now even working under the assumption they were not slain by the Umbrella agents who originally kidnapped me as an infant.

I moved through school grades easily and soon found myself in higher grades than my peers. I was a quiet and studious child, more interested in learning than in those around me. I was raised to believe I was better than the rest though I suspect even without that programming, I wouldn't care for bothering with friends or the like. These things together made me appear as an easy target for bullies. I did nothing about it at first as it was only harmless teasing that I paid no mind to. Even being younger than the other children in my grade, I thought them childish and went about my business. Of course ignoring them only made it worse and it progressed to more harsh forms of bullying that I continued to brush aside.

The first and only time became physical, it was just a shove. I didn't fall or lose anything I had been carrying like I suspect they wanted but it was enough to get my attention. The group was four older boys and they were all lowlife scum and I felt a fury in me I had never felt before at their audacity to dare touch me. I've always enjoyed science in particular and very quickly found myself zeroed in on biology. The human anatomy was so interesting to me though I had no real intent at this point, I was simply fascinated and curious. Why I bring this up is to give context as to how I knew just what to do to break the boy's arm in three spots. It was quick and relatively easy regardless that he was bigger than I was. I was small, fast, and had the element of surprise. I suppose this would be one of those 'the quiet kid snaps' moments but I couldn't have been more calm when I retaliated. I was angry, yes, and I punished him for his act against me but I was also sending a lasting message to everyone else that I was to be left alone.

Nothing ever came of my violent actions. I never did see that boy again and all others stayed clear of me as planned. I still wonder if no one told that it was I that did it, if it was decided I acted in self defense as all the teachers were aware I was picked on, or if Umbrella had something to do with keeping me out of legal trouble. It was after this incident that I truly began to view myself as superior and untouchable. I wanted to keep it that way so I convinced my caretakers to get me into martial arts classes and I trained in my free time to ensure if anything like that was to happen again, I would always have the upper hand. It was also when I decided I wanted to manipulate the human body to be better. It was far too easy to break that kid's arm… I knew there had to be a way to enhance the physical form. So I studied harder.

I tackled university with the same ease as the rest of my schooling, graduating with a doctorate in virology at seventeen. I was chosen to study at the Umbrella Executive Training Center. It was there I met William Birkin, he was two years younger than me and even more wrapped up in his work than I was. The two of us were rivals as the tops of our class and favored by our mentor, Dr. James Markus. William presented as even more of a 'nerd' than I did as I kept in shape and always had an intimidating air about me while he was scrawny and obviously didn't tend to his own needs as well as he should. No one bothered me but Birkin had suffered all sorts of torment by others all his life and never stood up for himself. I once asked him why and he said it didn't matter because he was more focused on his studies. This baffled me and led me into my interest in psychology, striving to find out how two people could endure similar circumstances but come out of it in such contrasting ways.

The next time I found William being picked on, I put a stop to it. It wasn't that I cared, I just found it distracting and I wanted a competent rival to study with. Even as rivals, we didn't hate each other, rather we challenged one another and always tried to make sure we would be the one on top. I still thought myself superior to William but he was worthy in some way to challenge me without it needing punishment. Others had posed to threaten my standing in the school and had been met with consequences but not him.

By the end of the year, the training school was going under due to scandals and poor cover ups. Seeing a chance to progress our careers, Birkin and I worked together and used Dr. Markus's trust in us to successfully steal a sample of his completed T-virus strain. This secured us both positions in Umbrella's Arklay laboratory as top researchers where we continued developing the T-virus using strains of Ebola.


Whoop! Real progress! Maybe I don't need to compact things like I thought I might have to, maybe just rearrange a few things. Anyway I don't have much to say this time around so I'll just say adieu and see you all later.